I snapped.
I released a roar and dived at the first man I saw. Sending the blunt end of my knife into his face, I knocked him back and straddled his legs. Leaning forward, I watched his eyes widen with fear, and I smiled. I smiled, knowing my fucked up face was the last thing he’d ever see.
Putting a knife between my teeth, I gripped his throat, pinning him down to the ground. I could feel his pulse under my hand. I could feel it racing.
I would feel it stop.
Raising my blade, I sent the first strike into his stomach. “One,” I hissed as the cunt’s back bowed. “Two,” I struck again, hearing the flesh tear under my knife. My heart pounded with excitement. “Three,” I growled as I hit his stomach once again. The cunt tried to move, he tried to scream, but I was blocking his screams. No more screaming.
No more fucking screaming!
“Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.” I hacked his stomach, his blood spattering my bare chest. The warm blood coated my skin.
The cunt died, his eyes glassing over. But I needed an eleven. Pulling my knife back, I raised it high. Then, with a loud roar, sent it straight through his forehead, splitting his skull.
Ripping the blade back from his skull, I jumped to my feet. The other prick was crawling away. My muscles twitched as I closed in. He heard me, and looking back over his shoulder, he called out. “Fuck, please. Shit, don’t kill me.”
I ignored his pleas. But he kept on screaming, shouting like a fucking *. His voice incensed me.
He needed to fucking die.
Leaning down, I gripped his hair, bending his head back to bare his throat. I didn’t wait this time, the need to spill blood burned too strong. Raising my hand, I sent the blade into his throat—once, twice, three times, four. And I counted all the way. I counted every strike, his blood splashing up my arms and down my cheeks. I counted from one to eleven until that fucker was stone cold dead.
But the flames were still too strong in my veins. The kills hadn’t taken away the screams. The screams were in my head… his screams were in my head. Those loud screams. Then the quiet screams. Then the silence.
The motherfucking silence.
Then I thought of his face. And I couldn’t touch him. When he needed me to touch him, I couldn’t. Because I was evil. I had evil in my veins.
The flames. They needed to be out. They all needed to come out. Finally, all of them, once and for all...
I staggered across the ditch. I dropped one knife to the ground, and tightened my grip on the other.
“Fuck! Flame! No, brother. Stop. Talk to me. What the fuck’s wrong? Talk to me!”
I lifted my head. AK… AK was there, he was talking to me, but the sound of the flames roaring were filling my ears, burning me from the inside. I watched his mouth as I lifted my knife and slashed it across my stomach. I hissed as I felt my flesh tear. I closed my eyes as I felt some of the flames leach away. But I needed more. I needed them all gone. I couldn’t live with the screams in my head anymore.
I slashed across my arm. I slashed across my chest. And the blood ran out. But the flames were still inside, I could feel them under my skin. The screams were still inside. His cries, his screams were still inside. Her screams. Her screams as he hurt her, as he beat her.
Tears ran down my cheeks as I thought of his little face. His little face screaming. His little hands reaching for me. But I couldn’t touch him. I was evil. I had the devil in my blood. I would hurt him. I would hurt him.
I registered movement. Red hair? Then I saw Vike. “Flame, stop. You’re gonna fuckin’ kill yourself! I don’t wanna touch you, brother, but so help me God I will if you don’t fucking stop.”
‘No,” I snarled and backed off, my blade held in front of me. Vike stopped. He watched as me I lifted my blade and slashed it across my abs.